


Anatomically Correct

by Country_Mercantile



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Support, I think this is what kids these days call slow burn?, M/M, Plot What Plot, Slow Burn, bisexual stardew bachelors, guys being dudes, there is a plot tho, touchy feely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22128220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Country_Mercantile/pseuds/Country_Mercantile
Summary: It's another quiet day in Pelican Town, and Harvey needs a break from the clinic.
Relationships: Elliott/Harvey (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	1. Deep Breaths

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in years! Please let me know if you enjoy this, or if you have a constructive opinion!

It was lunchtime, and Harvey was starving.

He wasn't even very hungry, but all the same, he needed a break. The clinic's office, the sterile air, the quiet and calm was beginning to build up and fester inside of him. A tinny hum from some small machine bored a hole in his skull. He felt like he'd swallowed a stone. His heart was racing without reason. Catching his damp hands checking his own pulse for the fifth time, Harvey decided to go. If he didn't, the discord between his high anxiety and the stillness of his office was going to kill him. The clinic would be fine for an hour or two. There were no appointments, anyway. No patients. There would be none for a while.

Entering the front lobby, he passed his receptionist, Maru, sitting at the desk thumbing through a mechanic periodical. Harvey stopped at the door. “I'm headed out for lunch,” he said, forcing calm into his voice. “Care to join me?” 

“Mmnn... thanks, but no,” she sighed. She didn't look up. 

"Gotcha... I might be a while. You have my number if anything comes up." Harvey nodded briefly, turning and ducking outside before she could see his disappointment, which he could feel spreading in a flush up his neck and into his face. He was sure that she knew, that he'd let on in a thousand different unintentional ways that he was interested in more than a professional relationship. That she hadn't acknowledged that in any way, shape, or form was even more embarrassing than his own awkwardness, his failure to confront his feelings face to face.

He'd never been great with women. Or men, for that matter. Romance in general. Oh, he could shake hands and be all business as a doctor, greet patients, put them at ease, and keep up a good working persona. Harvey was certain that people thought he was friendly. It was just when it came to anything more intimate than a medical exam that he froze up. Who could say? Maybe Maru had reciprocated at some point, and he'd rebuffed it as a reflex. Perhaps that would explain her cold demeanor towards him now. She hadn't always been so distant...

Stomach in throat, he inhaled deeply. The crisp, early-afternoon air was just what he'd needed. It was cool, a pleasant autumn day, and his green wool jacket was perfect for the season. He patted his face to make sure his moustache was in order, straightened his glasses, and straightened his shoulders.

The sun was out, leaves were falling, and Harvey could just catch the scent of salt coming from the sea. Perhaps a walk on the beach would ease his mind.

\---

The little path to the beach was densely forested. The buildup of enthusiastic flora over the summer was now thick and strong, but dry. Leaves and vines crackled as Harvey brushed them aside, ducking past the overgrowth to finally wind his way to the sand. A breaker hit the beach just as he caught sight of the sea, and a satisfying splash of white foam scattered into the air. He took another deep breath. It felt good. He'd think out his troubles on the beach.

He pushed onward, no longer contending with a small jungle, but with deep, dense sand. He didn't often make the trip down to the beach, and he always forgot how relatively difficult it was to trudge through the soft grains. By the time he reached a nice little hillock overlooking the water he'd worked up a sweat, clinging coolly to his forehead and the front of his shirt. A few roughly made benches surrounded a little burned out fire pit at the crest of the dune. 

Perfect, he thought. Just a little rest to clear my mind. Another deep breath. Close your eyes. The sound of the waves and gulls, the wind sharp on my face, the scent of the sea, of musk, and cedar...

The click of a door startled him. Harvey turned. A rustic wooden cabin several yards back belonged to a local, one of his patients, Elliot. Harvey knew Elliot was a writer, but beyond that he hadn't really gotten to know him that well. Elliot's life and his rarely intersected. Occasionally he'd see him at the local saloon on nights he deigned to venture from the little apartment he'd situated above the clinic, but Harvey didn't talk much to anyone even then. It was good to get out and socialize. Just a little. Not too much. Elliot seemed a nice enough fellow, though, so it was a pleasant surprise to see him leaving his doorway and heading up the dune to where Harvey was sitting.

“Doctor!” Elliot said, surprised. “I don't see you down here too often. What brings you here?”

“Just taking my lunch somewhere different,” said Harvey, a little too grumpily. “The clinic was stifling today, and I'm not expecting anyone to come in. Pelican Town will be fine without me for a few minutes.”

“Ha! Indeed.” Elliot stood next to the fire pit. Harvey wondered at his fondness for crushed velvet clothing, especially living on a beach. He could see pale little grains stuck in the cracks of his dark pants and maroon blazer, even in the ends of the strands of his long, glossy, oaken-brown hair. 

Another deep breath. The musk and cedar smell was stronger. Harvey realized it was Elliot's cologne. Another, and another. Damn, that was good cologne. What a refreshing smell. Harvey made a note to ask about it when appropriate. He decided to probe a little further in conversation. The fresh air and change in scenery had emboldened him.

“Just out and about today, then?” He hazarded.

“Oh, yes,” said Elliot. “I'm out walking almost every day. You write every day, you need to know when to stop. It's too easy to get hung up, stuck on a block, tangled in an impossible storyline. I try to distance myself from my work every few hours so I can get some fresh perspective.”

Harvey chuckled. “I hear you. I think a new environment was exactly what I needed today. Just...” he sucked more air in through his teeth. Intoxicating. Cold, salty, and that cologne. “...just needed a break,” he finished lamely.

Elliot snapped a finger. “Why yes, it's about lunchtime, isn't it? You said it yourself,” he said. “Come back to the cabin with me. I'll fetch you a salad our dear Leah put together for me, and I'll put on a pot of coffee.”

Harvey's eyes moved directly to meet Elliot's. “Coffee?”

Elliot laughed. “You're a fiend for coffee, yes? I can even smell it in your clinic, Harv, the place almost smells like a cafe. Come, let's get you some food.”

Harvey stood and followed Elliot. This was turning out much nicer than he'd planned. It almost made him nervous, as though there was some sort of catch to having a good time.

Maybe I should try having a good time more often, he thought.


	2. The Smell of the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey just wanted lunch. He was willing to settle for a cup of coffee at Elliott's cabin. Now the only thing on the menu is a... panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one didn't get as much editing as the first, but it came a lot easier than before! Thanks for reading, I think there's just one more chapter to go after this.

The cabin's facade had never been much to look at: a door, a window, plain woodwork, no surprises. A couple of old barnacles at the corner where the sea had pushed up against the house once or twice before. Some mildew and lichen, sprinkling pumpkin orange, lime green on the greying planks. Given Elliott's fancy for rather formal clothing, though, Harvey was expecting... not this.

It was dimly lit by a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The tiny windows at the front and back of the house provided little natural light to combat the shadows in the corners, and so only the central area of the one-room cabin was well-lit. A large bed crouched back in the right corner, next to a very large piano. Elliott's writing desk was in the left rear corner, completely covered in scattered papers, numerous pens and pencils, a typewriter and a folded laptop collecting dust on the floor nearby. Harvey approached the desk and swiped the laptop with a finger, pulling a solid print of charcoal grey off the surface.

Elliott, busying himself in a small corner dedicated to some sparse kitchenware, said, “Yes, I've had to experiment with different tools. As it turns out, I work best with my hands... a pity, if I were better at writing electronically I could skip transcribing what I send to my publisher.” He sniffed at a tin of coffee, winced and then shrugged, and began scooping. The lack of amenities other than a small sink and faucet made Harvey's stomach drop – he couldn't even see any sign of a bathroom. Elliott seemed to notice, and as he finished setting his little pot to brew he gestured to a stool near his work station, inviting Harvey to sit.

“I apologize, I have no restroom.” he said. “My capacity for home improvement is rather limited as of now.”

Harvey blushed, feeling caught. “Oh, no, it's lovely!” he squeaked. “I, uh, I was just... I was wondering what you were working on?” He jerked a thumb at the pile of unfinished work.

“Ah! A number of little projects... that's the problem with writing. You plan to be devoted to one thing, but new ideas that you simply can't allow to slip away are always crossing your path. I've at least three stories well underway, and several more scraps all clamoring for attention.” He sighed dramatically, tossing his hair and gazing out of the nearest window. Harvey was uncertain if he was being silly or not. Elliott continued, “It's quite the life lesson, granted.”

“How's that?”

Elliott smiled gently, still looking outside. “Life sends you new, special opportunities every day, every waking moment. You're only limited by which of those you choose to pursue. It takes a lot of courage to open yourself to the possibilities and all of their potential snags and pitfalls.”

Harvey suddenly felt very small. Elliott lived in a shit cabin with no toilet on a beach, but somehow he seemed more complete than he felt with his nice office building and medical degree. It all seemed so claustrophobic to him now. His stupid, safe choices. Only choosing the clearest path, never once taking a risk. In many ways he was a successful person, but his personal failures now loomed like deadly mountains. He clearly and vividly thought of Maru's face, the way she looked at him with less than disdain. Without even an opinion.

Several emotions began to well up at once. Stop it, he scolded himself. Don't do this now. His hands rattled against each other. He was checking his own pulse again.

Elliott had stepped back to the corner to check the coffee pot again. “How's business at the clinic for you, Harv?”

Harvey laughed a little too loudly. “Harv?”

Elliott responded in kind. “Sorry if that's a little too familiar for you! It suits you. I can use something different if you prefer.” He flashed a brilliant grin over his shoulder. “Doctor?”

“Ha,” Harvey felt his tension ease, his anxiety dropping. “No, Harv is fine. I'm just not used to being called by nicknames here.”

“Here?”

There it was again. If Harvey were a plant, he'd have wilted on the spot. “It's... I don't really...” 

His mouth was opening and closing, like a drowning fish. Struggling to find the right thing to say. I'm fucking up, he thought. I'm gonna say too much, or not enough. How had he managed to, in the span of no more than thirty minutes, managed to corner himself so badly? He couldn't talk this openly, not to a patient, not about this town and his life and the people in it. Not about how lonely it was in that clinic. Not about Maru.

He jumped as a heavy hand landed gently, firmly on his shoulder. He looked up at Elliott through foggy glasses. The blurred face was concerned. Harvey realized his eyes were saturated with tears. He felt so trapped.

“Are you okay, Harvey?”

“Y-yeah, I...” Harvey removed his glasses, wiping them vigorously with a handkerchief he produced from his jacket pocket. He shuddered. “I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'm just so...” Another tense shudder wracked his shoulders, making Elliott jump. Harvey felt like he was one more involuntary turn into dangerous emotional territory from crying outright. His stomach hurt. He was worried he would throw up on the beaten, sandy wooden floor beneath him.

And then Elliott's knees were there, kneeling on the splinters. Once more, a firm hand grasped his shoulder. Another gently crooked under his chin, and lifted it to meet Elliott's warm, green eyes. Green as the waves crashing eternally outside the cabin.

“Take a deep breath.” Elliott said. “Do you smell that? It's the smell of the sea. It always eases my spirit.”

Harvey did as commanded, still trapped by Elliott's gaze. The ocean air stung his nostrils, while the smell of Elliott soothed. He clung to every second of that breath. Elliott's thumb idly and sympathetically stroked his face, which Harvey could feel slowly turning red. He started to reach up to Elliott's hand, barely able to keep eye contact.

“There we go.” Elliott suddenly stood and quickly strode to the counter, bringing two mugs back with him. Harvey let his hand drop unnoticed back into his lap. “Let's just talk then, now that we've got you calmed down.” He reached back and pulled his hair over his shoulder to his back, revealing his own elegant neck. While his head was cocked to the side, Elliott's eyes turned to look at Harvey. “I can imagine you've got a lot bottled up, so let's start with what everyone in town knows: You have feelings for Maru, and she's just not interested.”

Harvey's mind exploded. Between recovering from his near-panic attack, the Maru question, and thinking about what Elliott's neck would feel like under his fingertips, he had nowhere to turn. His mouth was open, his face was aflame with agony.

He tried to answer, but all that made it through his throat was a long, pained “EEEEEEeeeeeeeeeep!” Elliott choked in the middle of a sip of coffee, and grabbed for Harvey's tear soaked handkerchief, laughing wildly.

“Well, there it is!” he said, clapping his hands. “Spill it! Let it out! You're going to tell me everything about what's running around in circles in your mind!” Elliott said. He leaned forward eagerly, excited to start the gossip, one hand offering the other fresh mug of coffee.

Harvey was, indeed, feeling a lot better. In spite of having been fully embarrassed, it was a relief to get it out at last. And Elliott was on the edge of his seat waiting to hear all about Harvey's sick little heart. 

It's like Elliott said, thought Harvey. You have to open yourself to the possibilities. And now, opening himself to Elliott, he felt an excited twist in his throat and stomach. He accepted the mug.

“Okay,” He sighed. He gulped at the coffee – Elliott made a terrible cup, it so happened – scalding and invigorating, braced his hands on his knees. “So, a few months back, when Maru and I were closing up for the evening...”


End file.
